After the climax of the story comes the falling action. The part you have been waiting for, for so long. It’s the part of the story where the storm begins to calm, and you see the sunny sky in the distance. The tiredness and tears in your eyes are slowly replaced with glistening signs of hope and love. The part of the story where your smile is supposed to turn vibrantly bold.

Instead, you feel nothing. You feel numb. After the rising action of the story and a long, drawn out climax full of unforeseen battles, obvious text says you should be happy. At least relieved. Something. Anything. Just not numb.

I should be sad that it’s finally almost over. One small stop left in this journey that’s right around the corner. Tears should be rolling down my face, but they’re not.

I should be ecstatic that I am finally ME again. My entire being should be dancing around to deafening music, smiling ear to ear. Laughing. Joy should be projecting from my eyes, but it’s not.

Instead, I feel nothing. I am numb. And that alone is terrifying. I have been numb before, and I went down a dark path. I missed out on so much by just going through the day-to-day motions and what was expected of me at the time. I portrayed a white picket fence fallacy to everyone I knew. But I had no feelings, and extraordinarily little care or regard to anything, and sadly anyone, including myself.

It got so bad, that I hid in the shadows of someone else for too long and allowed myself to be lied to and manipulated over and over. And I let the cycle repeat itself because of comfort. Because I gave up on myself. It became so unbearable, to the point I gave in to vicious demons inside of my head and wanted to throw the towel in. I wanted to give up. Thoughts in my head told me to just end it all; because running away from anything, including life, seemed easier than fighting.

Then I ran, literally. I put those headphones on, blasted music through my ears to reach my soul, and I ran. And I cried. A lot. I was lost. I couldn’t even look in a mirror because I didn’t recognize the reflection staring back at me, and I became terrified. So, I sought help. Through music, friends, family, and my doctor. Eventually, I embarrassingly went on temporary medication to help me fight this battle head on. Four different pills I had to swallow daily, like some grotesque reminder that I was weak, because of one person.

And after some time passed, I realized that I am so far from weak, and strong barely begins to describe the strength I found inside of me. I stopped being embarrassed and began opening up to anyone willing to listen. To everyone currently reading this. I used words and metaphors to structure my thoughts and vent. I always loved writing and music, but I never imagined in my life, that they would literally save me. They would guide me so I could pave a new path to a better version of myself.

It worked. I found me. I found my strength. I grew. I fucking flourished in a time most would throw the towel in and hide under the covers. I fought back. I fought so fucking hard, that I got myself down from four different medications to one. One last pill to try and mock me daily. Little does it know, that its dosage is being cut in half next month so I can be done with it all when that prescription runs out. Because I won. I fought some of the most atrocious, unyielding battles that I have ever come across, and I fucking flourished.

So, it’s crazy to me, that the first series of my story is almost over, yet I still feel numb. But maybe that is exactly how I’m supposed to feel. Perhaps being numb serves as an aide-memoire to how this first book in my series made me feel, so I never have to bear these thoughts or feelings again. Every great story needs a cliff hanger because no one knows what is going to come next. And maybe this numbness is the cliff hanger to my story. I wasn’t knocked down. I stood as tall as I could and fought like hell for so long. I am just beginning to live again, and it is one of the most beautiful, indescribable feelings I have ever experienced. I am not over yet; my story is not over yet. I am, and always will be, v;ctorious.

Bring on the next book in my series. I’m ready to continue to soar and show the world what I’ve always been made of. I’m ready for all the simple things I’ve let myself neglect, yet found again. Love. Happiness. Honesty. Trust. Passion. Laughter. LIFE.

“So afraid I couldn’t let myself see

That I could never be held

Back or up, no, I hold myself

Check the rep, yep you know mine well

Forget the rest let them know my hell

There and back yep, my soul ain’t sell”